


Myths and Legends

by Drogna



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Rip Hunter, Hurt/Comfort, Monsters, Rip Chat Christmas Gift Exchange 2020, Rip Hunter Lives, RipFic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29009553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drogna/pseuds/Drogna
Summary: Rip isn't dead, Jonah is sure of it. Somehow Jax is persuaded to help search for Rip and the two men track him to a London in the far future. There they meet a very baffled police officer and help her to deal with the temporal fallout of Rip's decision to overload the time drive.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Myths and Legends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [copperfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperfire/gifts).



> Written for the Rip Chat Christmas Gift Exchange 2020, for Copperfire who gave me three prompts and a list of words for inspiration. Jax and Jonah, the Future and dragons were the bits I took from it.

“He’s not dead,” said Jonah.

Jax raised an eyebrow. The air smelt of burnt teddy bear, which apparently was the odour of a giant Beebo subduing a time demon. Jax still wasn’t quite sure what had happened there, but the time demon was gone and so was the huge Beebo. The Legends had survived it too, well most of them had.

“He blew up the Waverider’s time drive, I don’t think even he can escape that,” said Jax, and took a sip of the terrible whisky that was in the glass in front of him.

Somehow, he and Jonah had ended up drinking together. A sort of wake had formed for Rip after the battle, and they had remembered him. Jonah had told everyone about the time Rip accidentally stole a horse from an outlaw, Jax had remembered how Rip taught him the circuits of the Waverider and Sara had reminisced on how she hadn’t had a purpose until the time traveller waltzed into her life. The other Legends had added their own stories, Ava too, and Jax had realised he was going to miss his friend.

He’d left the Waverider voluntarily after Martin had been killed, but he had expected to see everyone again. He even thought he might return one day, and in fact he had, but it wasn’t how he’d have wanted it to be. Not with Grey and Rip dead.

Although apparently Jonah was in denial.

“He survived it last time,” said Jonah. “I ain’t calling him gone until I see his cold, dead body with my own eyes.”

“I’m not sure that you’d get a body with that kind of overload,” said Jax.

“A man doesn’t just disappear into thin air,” said Jonah, throwing back the contents of his own glass in one gulp.

Jonah only knew there wasn’t a body because he’d asked if Rip would be getting “a proper Christian burial or whatever passes for that where you’re are from.” Sara had gently explained that there was no body to bury but he seemed to be struggling with that concept.

“It would have exploded,” said Jax. “I know a bit about temporal engines and time drives. I used to help fix the Waverider. The amount of energy in that thing was more than enough to disintegrate every single atom in his body. I guess it would have been quick at least.”

“So, you’re telling me that there is no chance that he survived?”

Jax shrugged.

“Maybe one in a hundred thousand,” said Jax. “But that’s nearly no chance at all.”

“Okay, that’s better than nothing. You said you know the Waverider, so how do we go about finding a man who got blown up?”

“We don’t!” said Jax with exasperation. “Even if he is alive, and that’s a huge if, there’s no way to find him. Man, you’ve got no idea of the scale we’re dealing with. That’s all of time and space we’d need to search. We’re not talking finding a needle in a haystack, we’re talking finding a needle that probably doesn’t even exist in a billion haystacks.”

“Better get started then,” was all Jonah said, and he poured himself a second glass of the terrible whisky.

Jonah didn’t seem to have any problem drinking the stuff, and Jax wondered if this was where Rip had developed his drinking habit. The two men had a lot in common, and apparently that also included belief in lost causes and thinking the dead could be rescued. He supposed that was a side effect of being a time traveller, or even just knowing one.

Jax sighed, shaking his head. He really wished that Grey was here because he might even have had some kind of hope of figuring out a way to track whether Rip was alive. Last time, they’d been tracking the Spear fragment, they hadn’t been looking for Rip at all. Which wasn’t to say that there hadn’t been anomalous things to detect, they just hadn’t been looking for those things or even known what they were.

And now he was thinking. It wouldn’t hurt to look, and with some help he might know how to start. He could probably enlist some assistance from Cisco and Barry, Gideon might even give him some pointers if he explained why, but he really didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up at this stage. He didn’t believe he’d find anything, he was just dotting i’s and crossing t’s.

A slap on the shoulder alerted him to Sara coming over to join them.

“Hey there,” said Sara. “I know you’re officially retired from time travel, but I’ve got a timeship without a time drive and given what happened to the Waverider last time she ended up at the Bureau… well, I’d rather have someone I trust doing the repairs. I’m sure that Gideon would too. Zari and Ray are getting pretty good at keeping her running, but they don’t know their way around like you. Could you spare some time to be the Chief Engineer again?”

Jax’s eyes widened. He hadn’t even thought about who would fix the Waverider or how.

“I don’t know. I’ve got a wife and kid to get back to now,” said Jax. “They don’t know about any of this.”

“I know, and you wouldn’t even need to be away. You could Time Courier to the Waverider and then back home again. They’d barely know you were gone. One of the benefits of time travel,” said Sara.

“Yeah, but this crew has a habit of getting into trouble. What if something happens to me? I saw what losing his wife and child did to Rip. I won’t do that to my family,” said Jax.

“Right, of course,” said Sara, “you’ve got other priorities now. But we could really do with our engineer back, just this once. I promise that all we’ll ask you to do is fix the drive and we won’t be going anywhere until you’re safely back home. Please.”

She gave him that warm smile of hers and her blue eyes twinkled with a renewal of their old friendship. He gave her a broad grin back, and he knew he was going to agree.

“Fine, I’ll do it. I guess I can’t say “no” when you put it like that, but I’m not going on any missions. This is just a patch up job and then I’m out again,” he said. “I’ll get started on the repairs tomorrow, but I’ll need to sober up first.”

“No problem, we’re all heading back to the Waverider tonight. I’ll give you the coordinates and you can join us tomorrow,” said Sara, handing Jax a piece of paper with some temporal coordinates scribbled on it.

Jonah hadn’t said a word during the conversation, he’d just been regarding the two of them. He’d developed a slight sway to his posture and Jax was wondering how many glasses of whisky Jonah had drunk before Jax even sat down.

“So, you reckon Rip’s gone too,” said Jonah, a statement not a question.

Sara’s shoulders slumped a little.

“Yeah, but he died a hero,” said Sara. “All we can do now is live up to the expectations he had for us.”

“Screw that,” said Jonah, pouring another measure of whisky for himself and topping up Jax’s glass. “That man’s got no idea how to rest in peace. If you’re not gonna look for him then I will.”

Sara gave the scarred man an unimpressed look. Jonah didn’t seem bothered and simply downed his drink in one.

“And just how are you going to do that?” asked Sara. “How are you planning to look for a dead man, Jonah?”

Jonah shrugged. “I s’pose I’ll just have to work that out. He’d do it for me.”

“Yeah, I think we should get you home before you drink this bar out of business,” said Sara.

Jax waved a hand in a placatory gesture.

“I’ll take him,” said Jax. “You stay and do the Captain thing. Make sure everyone’s okay. I’ll see you back on the Waverider tomorrow.”

Sara smiled.

“Thanks. We’ve really missed having you around these last few weeks. I know it’s been longer for you,” said Sara, and backed away, finger guns out. “Call me if you need help.”

“Don’t worry, I think I can manage to get one drunk cowboy home,” said Jax.

Sara just gave him a wave over her shoulder. Jax watched as his former crew welcomed their Captain back to the party, supplying her with a fresh drink. She was immediately laughing and joking with them.

“Not a cowboy,” grumbled Jonah, as he failed to dismount his bar stool and ended up in a heap of limbs and grey coat on the floor.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” said Jax, with a long sigh. “Let’s get you to your room.”

Jax helped Jonah to his feet and somehow the two of them negotiated the tables and chairs of the bar without tripping over them, their own feet or each other’s. Jonah had taken a room above the bar and so they didn’t have far to go. Which was lucky as Jonah was heavy and Jax’s knee hurt like crazy after taking a substantial part of his weight up the stairs.

“I got you curious about Hunter, didn’t I?” said Jonah.

“Maybe,” said Jax. “I’m surprised you care so much. You didn’t seem that pleased to see him last time you two met up.”

“Yeah, well, he had that punch coming,” said Jonah, “but we fixed our differences. He’s a friend and I ain’t got enough of those.”

“Why are you so sure he’s alive?” asked Jax.

Jonah reached the door to his room and fumbled with the key in the lock.

“I got a feeling in my gut,” said Jonah. “But you’ve met him. He never does anything without a plan. He doesn’t improvise well, so he plans everything. Which isn’t to say that he can’t improvise when he has to, he just hates it and it shows.”

Now that Jax thought about it, Jonah did have a point there, but maybe Rip just hadn’t had time to plan. But maybe it couldn’t hurt to investigate. He was beginning to think that he couldn’t just leave it, because Jonah had stirred doubts in him.

“So, if I were to find out that there were some anomalies surrounding his death… I’d need someone to back me up when I investigate,” said Jax. “No one else is going to believe he’s alive, even I don’t yet.”

Jonah opened the door finally and turned as he went in, giving Jax a rueful smile.

“I had a feeling you might ask that. Sure, I’ll help you hunt him down. Swing by and pick me up on your way out of town. I’ll be here until noon tomorrow,” said Jonah.

“Right, if I find anything worth investigating, I’ll come and find you,” replied Jax.

With that he went to find a quiet place to activate his Time Courier and head home for the night. He would come back in the morning to fix the Waverider. He could check the sensor logs at the same time and see what exactly they had detected when they’d found Phil. Gideon would have the records in her data banks and Jax knew his way around the Waverider. It shouldn’t be hard to scan for those same things again. If Rip was out there to find, then this is how he could do it, but it was still a long shot.

He should probably keep his suspicions to himself for now. No one would think it was even worth looking.

***

They still called it London, but the majority of the city had been under water since the Thames had split its banks in 2178, and that was thirty years ago now. The flood defences had been left to disintegrate over the years and now the majestic capital of Great Britain was a network of canals and suspended walkways between the old high-rise buildings and new structures built on top of the old to raise them out of the waves. The water levels had been rising for years as the world got hotter, making the South East of England warmer and wetter as the polar ice caps melted and the climate changed.

DC Lola Sekoni had grown up in the city, and lived there all her life. She had joined the London Metropolitan Police at the age of 18, having been considered bright, but not bright enough for further education. She was used to running along walkways that moved with the rise of the tide, harsh winds that travelled down the river from the East, and taking the boat to school, the shops, home. This was a city that she understood.

She and her partner, DC Dan Thornton, had taken out a boat that morning and were in the process of looking for a suspect in the North Bank Liminal District, close to the edge of the Deep. In most of the city, roads and old buildings could be seen below the water, but the Liminal District marked where the Deep began. This was the drop off to the old river course and it felt like the edge of the world at times. The water here was darker and deeper than the canals of the city, full of unknowns, with a wide expanse between the South and North banks that people didn’t cross if it could be helped.

So far, the morning had been dull, with little to show for their search. They were keeping an eye out for shady activity, anything that was suspect or illegal, and would point them towards their suspect but with rain forecast and a sky the colour of roof slate, no one was venturing far.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse only a couple of hours into their patrol, and the wind was picking up. They were dressed for it, but Lola still felt the bite of the air on her exposed skin. She knew the signs of a storm coming in from the East and they definitely wanted to wrap this up before that happened. Being safe and warm inside with a mug of hot chocolate was sounding pretty good right now.

Lola was at the boat’s helm, carefully piloting them along the edge of the piers when she saw a flash of bright light. She blinked, decided it was a first strike of lightning, and listened for the thunder but instead heard a loud splash. She caught a glimpse of a person, suddenly flailing arms, fully clothed by the looks of them, and then they went under the water.

“We’ve got a sinker!” she shouted to her partner, steering the boat towards the disturbance in the water.

“What?” asked Thornton. “Where from?”

He had a point. There were no boats near them and they were too far from the piers to expect a swimmer, not that anyone would be stupid enough to swim in the Deep. Occasionally you could catch a glimpse of one of the monsters that lurked in the water, creatures that had evolved from mutations caused by toxic chemicals and years of pressure to survive in inhospitable waters. Sensible people stayed away from the Deep, but that was why criminals often picked this area to do their business.

“There!” said Lola, as she caught sight of something beneath the water.

She pulled off her shoes and tac vest, her equipment belt followed, and then she dived in. She caught the start of a swear word from her partner, but a moment later she was swimming down. The water was cloudy and it was impossible to see far in the murk. She caught sight of a thrashing movement, then bubbles, and grabbed hold of the cloth that her reaching hand found. She used it to guide her down and wrapped her hand around a struggling torso. She kicked up and either he realised that he was being helped or he was too tired to sustain his thrashing and he stopped struggling.

They broke the surface and she held her charge tightly under the arms. She scanned the water for the boat and kicked towards it, desperately trying to reach safety quickly. He was wearing a heavy coat that was made heavier by the weight of the water, and definitely hadn’t been planning on going swimming judging by his clothes. Her partner moved the boat into position and between them they pulled the drowning man on board and he coughed and spluttered. At least that meant he was still trying to breathe.

Thornton got their rescued victim into the recovery position and he coughed up water as Lola pulled herself into the boat. She shook out her black curls, feeling the cold wind chilling her damp skin and the wet clothes leeching the heat from her body. She was a strong swimmer, but pulling another person out of the water needed strength and she was tired after the exertion. She dropped to the deck on her hands and knees beside the man that she’d just saved, shivering.

“We need to get you both to Casualty,” said Thornton, pulling out the survival blankets from the first aid kit. He tucked the first around the unknown man and the second he draped over her.

“I’ll be fine,” said Lola, with a cough, clutching the rustling foil blanket to her body.

“Protocol,” said Thornton, “you took a dip, you get checked out.”

Lola rolled her eyes but nodded. The water of the Thames was polluted with who knew what. She hadn’t taken any into her mouth or lungs, but she’d had a colleague who’d ended up with a nasty eye infection after they’d been thrown in the canal by a crim on the run. Even broken skin could lead to problems from contamination, so perhaps she shouldn’t be quite so dismissive of Thornton’s concern. Their victim would almost certainly need an overnight stay, a course of antiparasitics and some strong mouthwash.

Thornton left Lola with the first aid kit and took the controls of their boat, starting the motor again and guiding them back towards what passed for civilisation here.

“Hey, can you hear me, sir?” asked Lola. “What’s your name?”

She was rewarded with a groan but not a name. She patted down his coat and found a very damp revolver that appeared to have been refitted with laser cartridges. It was certainly an interesting weapon and not one which she’d seen on the streets here before. She carefully put it to one side. Guns were banned in London, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any being sold or owned.

She continued her search and retrieved what appeared to be a lighter and a small multitool from other pockets, and a wickedly sharp knife from his boot, but no wallet or identity documents. The man seemed quite disorientated and so far hadn’t answered her question, or done anything except cough up water and shiver violently.

“Can you hear me?” she asked again.

For a moment his eyes open and seemed to change colour, as if there was an inner light, but on a grey day like today, it was probably just a trick of the sun glinting from behind the clouds or more lightning from further away. He frowned up at her finally.

“Amaya?” he asked, as if he recognised her.

“No, sorry,” said Lola.

“Who are you?” he asked, as if it was an accusation more than a question.

“PC Sekoni, London Metropolitan Police,” she replied. “We pulled you out of the water in the Liminal District. Do you know how you got there?”

He shook his head.

“London…” he murmured, and closed his eyes, going limp against the deck of the boat.

“Shit,” Lola swore, checking for a pulse. It was weak but there. “Step on it, he’s unconscious.”

Thornton glanced back with concern, but he did as directed, hitting the switch for the siren and lights as he piloted the boat back into the city. They docked in the hospital’s Accident and Emergency mooring. At some point Thornton must have radioed in because medics were waiting for them, but Lola didn’t remember when. She was cold and recognised the signs of hypothermia setting in. Their unexpected swimmer was probably worse off since he’d been in the water longer.

Lola watched Thornton move the boat around to a more out of the way mooring, but she was walked inside by a nurse in light blue scrubs. The man was placed on a gurney and wheeled in, ending up in the cubicle beside her own, so she could hear the rapid calls to get an IV line started and to cut his clothes off. She hoped that didn’t extend to the rather stylish coat that he’d worn. They discussed the best way to warm him up and asked him for his name again, but there was no response.

Lola’s fingers were useless and frozen, fumbling at buttons and zips as she undressed clumsily, peeling the wet clothes from her skin. The nurse helped her rather than leave her to struggle. She found her a set of dry scrubs to wear and an extra blanket to drape around her shoulders. The cold felt like it was under her skin, in her blood and it made her wonder if she’d ever be warm again. She knew it was just an illusion, and this wasn’t the first time she’d had to rescue someone from the water so she was familiar with the iciness of a winter dip in the river.

The nurse did a thorough check of her vitals, made sure she had no immediate signs of anything nasty from the water and declared her fit enough to leave once someone brought her some proper clothes. She was also given the standard prescription to ward off the most common parasites in the water. All this and she still had no idea where their mystery swimmer had come from. They’d probably lost the suspect they’d been looking for too. It hadn’t been a great morning so far.

The doctors were discussing moving the man up to a ward. He still hadn’t regained consciousness but they weren’t entirely sure why. Lola listened in, not on purpose but just because she was bored and they weren’t being quiet.

“He’s hypothermic, it’ll take a while to warm him but he’s out of danger as long as he doesn’t surprise us. He should be awake,” said one of the doctors. She had a broad South London accent so was obviously a local. “His vitals are improving, but I’m getting some weird brain activity.”

“He must have taken in a couple of lungfuls of water,” said another medic. “It might be poisoning.”

“Possibly but there are no other signs and the police officer who dived in after him isn’t showing any adverse reactions,” said the first doctor. “There’s just that weird electrical activity, neurones firing. Heart rate is fast, pulse is up, but he’s not responding to stimuli.”

Thornton came strolling in about twenty minutes later, wet from the torrential downpour that had begun outside, just as Lola was feeling a little warmer. She was ready to get out of the A and E but seeing him made her shiver again. Thornton dumped a bag on the end of the bed.

“I went by your locker and grabbed your go bag,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Lola. “Do I need to put a new lock on it?”

“Don’t insult me,” replied Thornton. “I picked it. It’s not that hard. Listen, they want us to get some pictures of the guy we brought in, but we’d better do it quick. We don’t want to hang around here. That storm’s picking up out there. It won’t be safe to take the boat out soon and they’ve already closed the bridges.”

“Shit,” swore Lola. “We can’t get back to the station if we can’t take the boat.”

“Yeah, so hurry up and get changed,” said Thornton.

Lola immediately stripped off, only turning her back on her partner, who made a show of looking away. There wasn’t much privacy in the locker room at the station so officers were used to pointedly not paying attention to their colleagues as they removed blood stained shirts or muddy trousers.

The lights flickered as she finished her quick change, pulling on her sweats and a dry pair of boots. Thornton’s radio flickered to life and he pulled it from his pocket.

“All officers, be aware. Storm surge alert. Move indoors where possible. Remain on higher ground or floating island structures. Emergency services are instructed to ground. Storm surge alert.”

The message repeated. It was standard procedure. The hospital was a floating island structure and would rise with the storm. It was built on pylons that tethered it and kept it in place, but allowed it upward and downward motion as necessary.

Lola rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s that then. I guess we’re waiting it out here.”

The door to the hospital flew open and two bedraggled figures stumbled in, one of which appeared to be wearing a cowboy hat that he had firmly clamped to his head with a hand. Water ran off the brim, soaking the floor. He lowered his arm to reveal that one side of his face was seriously scarred with what looked like burns, not unusual in a hospital. A nearby nurse tutted at them as they struggled to shut the outer doors and, this time, lock them. Pretty soon they’d be closing the shutters and then everyone would be stuck for the duration of the storm. The two new visitors had been lucky to get in.

Thornton was talking to her, but Lola wasn’t listening. The two men, an IC1 male, approximately fifty years of age, and an IC3 male in his early to mid-twenties, her police brain supplied, had approached the front desk and were showing the receptionist a picture on a handheld device that looked a lot like an antique “smart” phone. Lola’s forehead furrowed with puzzlement. The pair were out of place, an enigma, and another enigma was in the bed next to her own. She didn’t believe in coincidences.

She hopped off the bed, and strode over towards them, her warrant card at the ready. Luckily it had been in her equipment belt which she’d dropped in the boat before diving in, or it could easily have ended up at the bottom of the Thames.

“…his name is Rip Hunter,” said the younger man in an unmistakeably American accent. “He may not have called himself that. He gets confused sometimes.”

“I’ll handle this,” said Lola, with a glance at the receptionist. “DC Sekoni, London Metropolitan Police.” She pulled out her warrant card to show it to the two visitors. “You’re a long way from home.”

“You have no idea,” said the older man, also American it seemed.

“Have you got names?” she asked.

“I’m Jefferson Jackson and this is Jonah Hex,” said Jackson.

“What brings you to London? We’re not really a tourist destination,” said Lola.

“Not on a day like today,” said Jackson, with a look back at the rain lashing the glass of the doors. “We’re looking for our friend. His name is Rip Hunter.”

Jackson fumbled with his antique phone for a moment and then showed Lola a picture. The man was unmistakeably their near drowning victim, even though he had a beard in the photograph. But Lola wasn’t just going to accept whatever story she was being told without checking who these people were and what their intentions were.

“Do you have some ID that I can see?” she asked.

Thornton had joined her now and he introduced himself. The two men pulled out ID and confirmed that they were who they said they were. Hex seemed somewhat baffled by the entire thing.

“How did your friend come to be lost?” asked Lola.

“That’s kind of a long story,” said Jackson.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” replied Thornton. “We’re going to be stuck here until the storm blows over.”

“He was injured,” said Hex, and Lola waited for him to continue but he didn’t.

“Okay, we’re going to need more than that,” said Lola. “We found your friend in the Liminal District. He’d decided to go for swim and nearly drowned. He’s got no ID or money on him, but he did have a retro fitted laser pistol and a knife,” said Lola. “Those aren’t the kind of things that someone out for a quiet walk has on him.”

Jackson exchanged a look with Hex, that definitely seemed somewhat panicked. The younger man opened his mouth, probably to lie to them again, but he didn’t get the chance. Behind them there was a flash of bright light, and the doctor who had been treating Hunter was thrown backwards through the curtain surrounding the treatment cubicle, pulling it down around him. This gave everyone a clear view of the patient within.

“Rip?” exclaimed Jackson.

The man in question was sitting up on the bed, with various medical monitoring devices still attached to his chest. His eyes were glowing with yellow fire, and behind his right shoulder was a bright circle of light that widened to about two metres rapidly. As they watched, the glow turned black in the middle of the circle and the darkness expanded from the centre to form a hole in the very structure of the building. Then something pale and green poked a long, clawed hand through the opening and pulled itself through.

The creature was tall, grazing the ceiling with the top of its cranium and it looked to Lola like an emaciated man covered with moss and grass that seemed to be part of its skin. It wore a short tunic made of interwoven leaves and a necklace of small gold bells around its neck. It had eyes that shone red, and when it opened its mouth it showed off needle thin sharp teeth. It looked around itself, regarding everyone in the room and it seemed to grin. A rich smell of damp earth and wet, mouldering leaves pervaded the air.

“What in tarnation is that?” asked Hex, with something between resignation and horror.

“How the hell should I know?” replied Jackson, aggrieved and perhaps a little scared.

“Eloko,” said Lola, not believing it even as she said it breathlessly, “that is an Eloko.”

Thornton just looked at her as if the words she was saying had no meaning and probably to him they didn’t, but she had grown up with the stories her grandmother told. Those stories were the ones that had been passed down from the original Lola, who had come to London from Kinshasa in 1972 with her husband and two small children. They were just stories though, so this couldn’t be real.

The hole seemed to close back up, then Hunter’s eyes stopped glowing and he fell back against the pillows, unconscious again by the looks of it. Medical staff were already scattering, grabbing patients and moving them in beds if they couldn’t walk. The creature lashed out, missing anything it might have been aiming at.

“What’s an Eloko?” asked Jackson.

“A forest troll. It eats people,” said Lola. “My family used to tell horror stories about them.”

“Of course it does,” said Jackson.

“Everyone stay back!” shouted Lola, “we’re police. We’ll deal with this.”

She drew her baton, snapping it out to its full length, while Hex threw back his coat to reveal an antique pistol that was either a very good replica or belonged in a museum. Lola would have been alarmed, but now didn’t seem to be the time to worry about a gun. She saw Thornton take out his baton too and a security guard came running in with a taser out and ready.

“Wait!” Lola shouted, this was going to need to be a coordinated response, but the security guard was already too close.

The Eloko simply grabbed the guard with its long fingers and lifted the struggling man off the floor. It bit down on its victim, sinking its teeth into the guard’s shoulder by somehow extending its jaw. Thornton moved in with his baton lifted high over his head, anger on his face. The Eloko saw him coming and hit out with a long arm, smashing her partner away to slide across the slick floor.

“Hunter is going to damn well owe me for this if we get out alive,” said Hex, drawing his gun and aiming it at the monster.

Hex fired at the monster like a gunslinger from a wild west movie. He emptied his gun into the thing but it didn’t seem to do much more than make it annoyed. It roared in Hex’s direction, and moved towards them with a lumbering gait, dropping the security guard to free up its hands. Its long arms and legs knocked over anything that got in its way, which was a gurney, a defibrillator and some chairs that had only had visitors sitting in them moments ago.

“Dan!” shouted Lola worriedly, but her partner scrambled to his feet, shaking his head.

“I’m fine, we need to call in backup,” Thornton shouted, and grabbed a couple of staff who were about to get in harm’s way too.

He reached for his radio only to find it had been broken by the impact. Lola took out her own radio but received nothing but static in response to her call. The bad weather was affecting radio reception, which wasn’t an uncommon phenomenon in a bad storm. She caught a few choice swear words from her partner.

“Radio’s out! The bridges are down and the storm’s too bad already,” Lola pointed out.

Thornton limped over to some of the civilians and began helping to evacuate the staff and patients to another area. He was now the opposite side of the advancing monster and if he was injured, then he’d be of little help in dealing with the threat. The Eloko swiped again vaguely in the direction of movement, and it tipped over a trolley of medical equipment, mostly by accident.

“I don’t think it can see too well,” said Hex.

Lola nodded. “Right, it’s a forest animal. It’s used to light being filtered by leaves. It’s too bright in here.”

“Okay, how do we kill it or send it back?” asked Jackson. “Bullets don’t seem to hurt it much.”

“I don’t know,” said Lola. “In the stories, the man comes home and shoots an arrow through it, then beheads it.”

“Kid, get Hunter out of here while I distract the thing,” said Hex. “We need to get him somewhere with less people.”

“Jonah…” began Jackson.

Hex reached into his voluminous coat and drew out a very large knife. Lola’s eyes widened as the bright light glinted off the substantial blade.

“Woah, that’s a serious knife,” said Jackson.

Hex gave him a withering look.

“Kid,” said Hex, holstering his gun and swapping the knife to his right hand. “Do as you’re told.”

“Yeah, got you,” said Jackson. “On it.”

“What are you going do?” asked Lola.

“Kill it,” said Hex. “Before it takes a bite out of anyone else. You might want to stand back.”

“Hell no,” said Lola, brandishing her baton. “You can’t do this alone.”

Hex gave a half shrug.

“It’s your funeral,” replied Hex.

Jackson edged off to one side but again the creature caught the movement and its long arms reached out towards the young man.

“Hey, ugly, the one you want is over here!” shouted Hex.

The red eyes turned back towards Hex and with the claw of its index finger, it ran the nail along the necklace of bells. The sound of the bells was otherworldly, a melody that Lola thought she might have heard but forgotten. She felt mesmerised, as if the creature in front of her was beautiful, nature red in tooth and claw exactly as it should be, with blood staining its lips. It felt like she had been very wrong to contemplate attacking it. It was hungry and it needed to be fed. She would happily offer it the flesh from her own body if it needed her.

Beside her Hex was lowering his knife, and shaking his head as if an insect was bothering him. The Eloko took a couple of steps towards them, tracing the golden bells with a finger again. The music they made was so soothing and even Hex stopped moving.

Then the monster cried out and arched its back. The sound of the scream was enough to destroy the spell the music of the bells had created and she was suddenly back to seeing the Eloko as it really was. The creature turned around and Lola could now see a scalpel sticking out of its back which was probably what had caused it to scream. Its moss covered back was exposed and Hex ran forwards, knife drawn ready. He leapt at the Eloko’s back and clung on, using his knife to hack into the green flesh of its neck.

The Eloko let out a horrible shriek as Hex chopped away at it. It tried to get a hand on Hex but Lola hit its arm with her baton as hard as she could and she kept hitting, taking out all her fear on it. Finally, the monster collapsed to its knees and Hex was able to complete the job. It leaked a sort of green, sticky ooze, which Lola decided must be the equivalent of its blood.

“Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” asked a voice, and she looked up to see Hunter, out of bed.

He looked pale and weak, as if he might fall over if he didn’t maintain complete concentration on standing upright and he was shivering enough that Lola wondered if he would vibrate into pieces. He was dressed only in scrub bottoms and with a blanket draped around his shoulders, but he was still defiantly brandishing a pair of surgical scissors in the general direction of where the Eloko had stood.

“Did you stick a scalpel in that thing’s back?” asked Lola, indicating the Eloko with her baton.

Hunter nodded, with a gesture in the direction of the medical instruments scattered on the floor.

“It was all I had to hand.”

“You’re tougher than you look,” said Lola, folding her baton away.

Jackson moved around to Rip’s side.

“Rip, man, you have no idea how glad we are to see you,” said Jackson. “But I’m not sure you should be out of bed.”

Hunter’s legs seemed to give up their fight to keep him upright just as Jackson said the words, but luckily the younger man was there to catch their mystery swimmer. He positioned himself and helped Hunter back to the bed, pulling more blankets over him. A nurse appeared, bravely ignoring the dead monster, and reconnected monitoring equipment, repositioned heating pads and found the patient a scrub top and a sweatshirt to wear.

Hex cleaned his knife on the body of the Eloko, wiping it on the mossy tegument before putting it back in a sheath and then it went back into the inside of his coat somewhere. He pushed himself to his feet and went to join Jackson at Hunter’s bedside.

“Jonah? What are you doing here? Where are the rest of the team?” asked Hunter.

“Er, this wasn’t exactly a sanctioned operation,” said Jackson. “Sara doesn’t know I borrowed the Waverider.”

Hunter sighed loudly.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by now,” said Hunter, his teeth chattering. “I still don’t understand what happened. How did I even get here?”

“You overloaded the time drive,” said Jackson, “to buy the team some more time to work out how the totems operated. It worked, by the way.”

“Yeah, except you ended up here,” said Hex, gruffly.

“I meant that they defeated Mallus and put him back where he belongs,” said Jackson.

Hunter was frowning and seemed to be thinking deeply.

“I don’t remember anything after confronting Mallus. I expected to die,” said Rip. “The chance of survival was infinitesimally small.”

“Nah, this is you,” said Hex. “I’ve never known you to go down without a fight.”

Rip just raised his eyebrows at that. He was shivering less now and some colour was at least returning to his skin. Lola approached the group.

“Who are you people?” asked Lola. “How did a monster from a story just end up in a London Accident and Emergency?”

“That is a long story,” said Hunter.

“That’s what your friend said and you’ll have to do better. People have been hurt,” said Lola.

“I know, and I’m very sorry about that,” said Hunter. “It wasn’t my intention to come here.”

“Come here from where?” asked Lola, getting frustrated.

“We’re time travellers,” said Hunter, apparently totally serious. “We protect the timeline, but I was fighting a creature similar to the one you just met except far more powerful and it necessitated an unorthodox approach.”

“He took the time drive from our ship and overloaded it. It took out the monster but it also wiped him out with it and sent him here,” said Jackson. “We thought he was dead but luckily Jonah wouldn’t stop telling me about how you couldn’t possibly be dead, so I started looking for signs that you weren’t in the timeline.”

Hunter was frowning again.

“Exactly how did you do that?” asked Hunter.

“I got Gideon to pull the records of the last time you zapped yourself somewhere with the time drive, which was equally stupid by the way, but it gave me something to look for. I found a similar signal coming from here,” said Jackson.

“The kid knows his stuff,” said Hex.

“He does,” replied Hunter, sounding just a little proud.

“Gideon helped,” said Jackson. “She is pissed at you.”

“I can only imagine,” said Hunter. “She has good reason this time, if I’m being fair.”

Lola held her hands up.

“Stop, just stop. You’re not time travellers. They don’t exist,” said Lola.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, but then Rip came to town, stuck out like a sore thumb and stole my coat,” said Hex.

“You gave it to me!” protested Hunter.

“It was either that or watch you freeze to death by the campfire,” said Hex.

“Guys, we need to work out what to do next,” said Jackson.

“No,” said Lola. “I need answers. Say I buy the story that you really are time travellers, which I don’t, where did the Eloko come from. That’s a mythical creature. They don’t exist.”

“Actually, they do, but not in this dimension,” said Hunter. “Mallus destabilised time itself and opened cracks to other realms. Hopefully destroying him will deal with that problem, but the energy from the time drive explosion may have given some of those the cracks enough power to remain open a little longer than others.”

“What’s a Mallus?” asked Lola.

“A time demon. A very powerful one that would have ended all of us if given the chance,” replied Rip.

“Okay, so the crack is closed now?” asked Jackson, hopefully.

“I’m afraid not,” said Hunter. “Some of that energy was absorbed by me. It may take time to decay and it’s possible that other portals will open while that is happening.”

“We better get you somewhere with less people,” said Hex.

“The Waverider’s temporal shielding should solve the problem,” said Hunter. “Once I’m on board then the energy will dissipate naturally over a period of a few days, but the hull of the Waverider will prevent any portals from opening and letting something untoward in.”

“If you’ve got a boat out in this then I hope you moored it somewhere smart,” said Lola. “And you’re not going anywhere for a while. They’ve raised all the bridges and put out storm warnings. I doubt you could even walk upright out there right now.”

“She’s right,” said Jackson, with a gesture towards the weather outside. “It was bad when we came in, but look at it now.”

Hospital staff were picking over the debris caused by the Eloko and others were closing shutters over windows and doors.

“Extreme weather,” mumbled Hunter. “What year is this?”

“You don’t know what year it is?”

“No, as I said, I didn’t choose to come here. This is where I was… _thrown_ by the time drive explosion,” replied Hunter.

“It’s 2208,” said Lola. “You’re in the City of London, capital of the Free State of England.”

Hunter nodded.

“Drowned London, forty years under water before the great land reclamation projects of the 2220s,” said Hunter, sadly.

“Land reclamation projects? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Lola.

“No, and you won’t for a few years yet,” said Hunter, and he turned to Jackson. “The storms here are legendary. It’s definitely not safe to leave on foot. Jax, have you got your Time Courier on you?”

Jackson shook his head.

“I’m not part of the team anymore, officially. I just took the Waverider out for a test drive after doing the repairs she needed. I don’t have access to Time Couriers anymore,” said Jackson.

“Maybe I can build one,” said Hunter, thoughtfully. “I’ll need your help though.” He held up his shaking hands. “This is not helpful for fine work with electronics.”

“If you tell me what to do then I’ll put together whatever you want,” said Jackson. “What do we need.”

“Find me a pen and paper and I’ll give you a list. Some of this equipment must have the parts we need. It won’t be pretty, but it should get us home,” said Hunter, looking around at the debris strewn about the floor.

Jackson nodded and moved away to search out something to write with.

“You should clear this room and keep everyone out of here. Hopefully we’ll be gone before the next portal opens, but I can’t guarantee that,” said Hunter.

“Are we going to get any warning before another one of those holes in the universe opens up?” asked Lola.

“Probably not much, and until a second portal opens, I can’t make the necessary calculations to determine how quickly the energy in me is decaying,” said Hunter.

“The glowing eyes were the giveaway last time,” said Hex.

“Your eyes were glowing when we picked you up,” said Lola.

“That would be because I dropped through one of those portals into the water,” said Hunter. “I would surely have drowned if it hadn’t been for you. You have my deepest thanks.”

“It’s my job to stop idiots who are doing something stupid or illegal,” said Lola. “Sometimes that includes stopping people from drowning. But you’re welcome.”

“Do you know what time it was when you rescued me?” asked Hunter.

“About 10.50am,” said Lola.

“I need precise timing,” said Hunter.

“No, then,” said Lola.

Hunter glanced at the clock across the room.

“Perhaps I can make a rough estimate at least,” said Hunter.

Jackson returned with a doctor’s notebook and Lola took a moment to check up on Thornton. She walked past the body of the Eloko, which seemed to be decaying already, and looked more like a mound of leaf mould and moss by the minute.

Thornton was being tended to by one of the other medics, but agreed with her that they should evacuate the room. Lola wasn’t entirely sure how to explain what had happened but given what they’d just seen, Thornton had to concede that something weird was going on and their rescued drowning victim was at the centre of it.

“He says he can fix it with some equipment,” said Lola.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” asked Thornton.

“Well, I suppose all three of them could be in on it, but it doesn’t feel like that,” said Lola.

“We did just watch a monster take a bite out of a security guard. A monster that walked through a hole in the wall that wasn’t there five minutes ago,” said Thornton, shaking his head in disbelief. “At least he was in a hospital when it happened. That’s going to give me nightmares for months. This is all incredibly screwed up and I am nowhere near okay with it, but I guess a group of lost time travellers is as good an explanation as any.”

“One lost time traveller, the other two came to find him,” said Lola.

“Whatever. How the hell do we put this in a report?” asked Thornton.

“I don’t know, weird storm effects and mass hallucination? Let’s live through it first and then work it out, but if finding them what they need gets them out of here and turns them into someone else’s problem then I’m all for helping them,” said Lola.

“Yeah, you do that while I make sure there are as few people around to get hurt as possible,” said Thornton.

He pulled out a clear plastic bag from his backpack that contained Hunter’s personal effects, including the laser pistol. It was interesting that Hunter had something high tech while Hex had a gun that used actual bullets.

“You might need that,” said Thornton.

“You’re giving me his stuff?” asked Lola.

“Either he’s telling the truth, in which case we should help any way we can and you could need the extra firepower, or he’s lying, and we can lock him up later when we’ve worked out what’s really going on here. Whichever it is, you should stick close to him. Good luck,” said Thornton.

“You too,” replied Lola, and then she turned around to see Jackson waving a piece of paper at her.

“Can you help me? I need to find these things, and I don’t want to break anything important,” said Jackson.

Lola nodded.

“Follow me, Mr Jackson,” she said.

“It’s Jax. No one calls me Mr Jackson. Well, except Rip but even he doesn’t do that anymore.”

“Lola,” she replied. “Let’s get what you need and then we can get you out of here with your friend and I can work out what lies I need to tell to keep my warrant card.”

***

Rip looked up at Jonah.

“How did you and Jax come to be the ones that found me?”

“We were the only ones who believed you had to be alive somewhere,” said Jonah. “The rest of your crew thought you were a goner.”

“They were nearly right,” said Rip.

Landing in the cold water of the Thames had not been a pleasant way to enter this time period. He was still cold and trembling. They had given him more blankets and warming pads, but the cold was in his bones and it would be a while before he felt properly warm. There was also the small matter of the pollution in the water irritating his skin and stomach. He ached and felt quite sorry for himself, and although he appreciated the medical attention that he’d been given, he would prefer to be back on the Waverider where Gideon could take care of everything in a short stay in the ship’s medbay.

“The kid’s okay though. He put in the work, but I asked to tag along,” said Jonah. “I didn’t trust him out on his own, not after Salvation.”

“I’m glad you came with him. He’s grown up a lot in the last couple of years but he’s still very inexperienced,” said Rip.

“Like you when we met for the first time then,” replied Jonah, folding his arms over his chest.

Rip gave his friend an unimpressed look.

“I was still learning, that doesn’t mean I lacked experience,” said Rip.

“Oh, you lacked experience alright. You lacked experience of how to survive in the West,” said Jonah. “I had to damn well teach you everything from how to ride a horse to how to fire a six shooter.”

“And how to drink whiskey, how to break out of a jail, how to hunt down a bounty, etcetera, etcetera,” Rip reeled off. “Yes, yes, I get your point, but I knew time travel, so I wasn’t inexperienced. I just didn’t have the right experience for your world.”

Jonah chuckled.

“Yeah, until I met you, I thought my world was the _only_ world. Then you dragged me into all this,” said Jonah.

“I seem to remember _you_ joined _me._ There wasn’t any dragging involved,” said Rip.

“Well, he was my bounty. I wasn’t going to let you steal my reward for bringing him in. How was I to know he was also a wanted time criminal?”

“A shape shifting, wanted time criminal,” Rip reminded.

“That kind of gave away your cover,” said Jonah.

“It did rather,” said Rip.

The storm was causing the floor to rise a little as the floating island that the hospital was built upon rose with the water of a storm surge. It was like being on board a boat and whilst the staff of the hospital and the police officers didn’t seem to be bothered by it, it certainly wasn’t helping Rip’s nausea.

He felt a twinge in his stomach, perhaps a cramp from the disgusting water he’d ingested. He bit down on a groan, somewhat irrationally hesitating to show pain in front of Jonah. His friend had probably been through far more pain in his life than Rip had ever experienced. It seemed wrong to make a fuss about a stomach ache. But Jonah was a perceptive man.

“Something wrong?” asked Jonah.

“I’ve been feeling sick since I woke up, which is probably down to the pollution in the water I was fished out of. It seems to be getting worse,” said Rip, rubbing at his midriff.

“Do you need a bowl?” asked the nurse, who had been kindly tending to him.

“Probably a wise precaution,” said Rip.

The nurse smiled at him and patted him on his shoulder before she went to find the receptacle he needed. An unexpected stab of pain in his abdomen left him gasping for a moment and he bent forwards to try to lessen it. He felt Jonah grab an arm to stop him toppling sideways.

“You okay?” asked Jonah, with what sounded like it could be concern.

A thought suddenly struck him.

“Jonah, get away from me,” said Rip.

“There’s no need to get tetchy, I was just stopping you from falling out the bed,” said Jonah, misunderstanding why Rip was alarmed.

“No, I think the pain is the energy building again,” said Rip.

“Then I sure as hell ain’t going anywhere,” said Jonah. “We’ve got no idea where those holes go.”

“At a guess, I’d say hell,” murmured Rip, trying to breathe through the building agony.

The pain spread outwards until it felt like his entire body was on fire and then he couldn’t move. The world turned golden and he thought he yelled out, but the light seemed to dissipate only seconds later. He was lying on the bed and Jonah had moved, suggesting time had passed although it couldn’t be much since it was only to the end of the bed.

DC Thornton was shouting for the few remaining medics and civilians to get out of the area. He looked afraid and Rip had the distinct impression that DC Thornton didn’t often look afraid. Jonah was staring at something which was to his left and had his knife in his hand again. Rip turned his head, wondering what horror had come through the portal this time.

“Bollocks,” he said.

The edges of the portal could just be seen behind the very large and extremely angry looking dragon. It was down on its stomach, because it had only two limbs in addition to a writhing tail. It was also the only way it could fit into the confined space of the waiting room of the hospital. It was a dark, greyish blue, covered in interwoven scales and had a pair of half-unfurled, atrophied wings on its back. The beast had a distinctly serpentine look to it and it flicked a forked tongue at them. Green smoke escaped from its nostrils.

“Lindorm,” said Rip.

“What?” asked Jonah.

“It’s a Lindorm, Lind worm. It’s Fafnir!” said Rip.

“You’re just saying random words,” said Jonah.

“That’s the name of the thing,” he said, pushing himself up on his arms, ready to climb out of bed again. “It’s from Norse mythology. Oh, bloody hell, it breathes poison at people. Are there any masks around here?”

“Masks? We’re not robbing a bank, Rip,” said Jonah, unimpressed.

“Oxygen masks. To help us breathe, not hide our faces,” said Rip, rolling his eyes.

“What the hell is an oxy jen mask?” asked Jonah.

Of course, Jonah would have no idea what he was talking about.

“It’s a plastic mask that goes over your face and blows air at you. It’s good for sick people,” he explained, rapidly.

Rip slid out of bed, steadying himself on the mattress as he regained his balance. He could see a number of portable oxygen canisters and attached masks on the floor where the Eloko had thrown them earlier. He might be able to get to them if Fafnir was distracted enough by Jonah, but he also didn’t particularly want the monster to attack yet. He had no idea what kind of poison Fafnir’s breath was, but he doubted it would be good for any of them to breathe a lot of it in.

“Jonah, back up, slowly,” said Rip.

“I said hell no,” said Jonah, which was distinctly unhelpful. “I ain’t running or leaving you here on your own.”

“Neither of those things are going to happen, just keep its attention while I grab the oxygen and masks,” said Rip.

“Then what?” asked Jonah.

“Then I’m going to tell you how to kill it,” said Rip, as he edged slowly towards the pile of cylinders on the floor. He crouched down and reached a hand forwards. He grabbed the edge of the tank and pulled, keeping his eyes on the dragon who still watching Jonah. He managed to secure one and then another. The oxygen tanks were small enough to be carried by a medic so they should serve for the purpose he needed them for.

“Jesus Christ on a bike!” came an exclamation behind them.

Rip winced at the noise which heralded the return of DC Sekoni, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as she realised that her exclamation had been unhelpful. Jax entered the room a couple of steps behind her.

Fafnir turned and roared a stream of noxious fumes. Rip sprang back to his feet, feeling a little wobbly but the adrenaline would have to carry him. He and Jonah dodged to the side to avoid the worst of the poisonous breath, or rather Jonah dragged him to the side but he was ignoring that. He thrust a mask and cylinder at Jonah, put one on himself, and then he looked around for Jax and DC Sekoni. They had thrown themselves behind a curtain, which seemed to have deflected a decent amount of the poisonous gas. There was still the sound of coughing.

“Jax!” he shouted, somewhat muffled by the mask.

The curtain was thrown back and Jax emerged waving an electric fan like it was shield. Rip couldn’t fault his friend’s ingenuity. The moving air was blowing the fumes back towards the dragon.

“Nice move, kid,” said Jonah, also rather muffled. “Now, how do we kill it.”

“It has a weak spot under its left arm,” said Rip. “Your knife should do it given we don’t happen to have any mystical swords on us.”

Fafnir belched noxious green gas at them again, and Jax advanced with the electric fan pushing back the poison laden air. Jonah decided that was exactly the distraction that he needed and ran full pelt at the dragon, oxygen cannister stuffed in his coat pocket. He slid on the shiny hospital floor, skidding onto his side so that he was on target to duck under Fafnir’s legs. Jax took a step too far forwards and pulled the fan’s plug from the wall socket.

“Shit,” said Jax, looking at his now barely rotating fan, he turned around and sprinted back to the socket to turn it back on again, while Lola seemed to be searching for something.

Meanwhile Jonah had his knife out and was about to strike out when Rip realised that there was a flaw in Jonah’s plan. He had aimed for the left side of Fafnir, but the left side as Jonah looked at him. That was actually Fafnir’s right side and not where the weak spot was according to the myths.

“Bloody hell,” spat Rip, as Jonah stabbed upwards and found hard, scaled hide under his blade. “Wrong side!”

Jonah glanced back angrily and had to roll out of the way of a large foot that was descending to try and crush him.

“You said left!”

“His left! Your right!” shouted Rip, instinctively reaching for his gun before he realised he wasn’t wearing it. “Where the hell is my gun?”

DC Sekoni materialised beside him, and handed him a plastic bag. It was a moment of staring at it to realise that it contained his gun and the contents of his pockets.

“Thank you,” he said, sincerely.

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

He tore open the bag and retrieved his gun, aiming it squarely at the centre of Fafnir’s head. It wouldn’t kill him but it might distract him enough to give Jonah time to find the weak spot. He fired several shots in quick succession, and they all found their mark. Fafnir screamed a harsh and angry scream, and turned his eyes towards Rip.

The dragon drew breath, ready for another poisonous exhale, but as he did so Jonah found his mark. Fafnir went to cry out and instead choked on his own poison. He writhed from foot to foot and Jonah was trapped beneath his legs, trying to decide which way to roll before the next random step. Rip ran to him and grabbed the back of the man’s coat and pulled. He had to sidestep a tail swipe, and he fell backwards as the momentum was too much for him, but Jonah was out of harm’s way.

Both men were breathing heavily, and the air was still thick with a vaporous fog of foul smelling gas. The masks helped but they hadn’t been intended for this and the seal they made wasn’t perfect. Rip could hear Jonah coughing beside him and he felt his own throat complain. He saw DC Sekoni find another fan and begin helping Jax to blow away the gas. The air was clearing now with the extra breeze.

Fafnir rolled around on the floor, smashing his tail into the chairs of the waiting room and the remining furniture of the treatment cubicles. Finally, he collapsed sideways and became still. There was a collective exchange of relieved looks and Rip gave himself a moment to recover without rising from the position he’d ended up in on the floor.

Fafnir took up about half the room and he smelt quite unpleasant. The corpse was oozing blood and a green liquid that may have been the source of the foul gas, but Rip didn’t feel any need to investigate more closely. When the air looked relatively clear he removed his mask, keeping it close in case it wasn’t as clear as it appeared.

“Anyone injured?” shouted out DC Sekoni.

Jonah groaned but got to his feet, pulling Rip up with him.

“We’re fine, ma’am,” said Jonah.

“Ma’am? We just fought a dragon, I’m Lola,” said the woman, a little out of breath from the exertion of flinging herself out of harm’s way too much today.

Jonah just gave her a nod.

“I think we should build that Time Courier, Jax,” said Rip, tiredly.

“Yeah, I think we should,” said Jax. “Any idea how long until the next portal opens?”

“I think we have an hour and twenty minutes,” said Rip, “but that’s an estimate. If I was off in my calculations then it could be a little more or a little less.”

“It’ll be less,” said Jax. “It’s always less.”

“Pessimistic but probably accurate,” said Rip.

“You’d better get to work then. We ain’t got time to hang around and if anything bigger than that dragon comes through the next time, we’ll be digging ourselves out of the ruins of this place,” said Jonah.

“That is definitely something that I would like to avoid,” said Rip. “Did you get all the parts?”

Jax nodded.

“Lola pointed me in the right direction,” said Jax. “Do I want to know how you knew where to hit the dragon to kill it?”

Rip gave Jax a small smile. The younger man set out the parts on a nearby gurney that had miraculously avoided being thrown across the room.

“Benefits of being brought up on the classics, in this case the Norse classics. Luckily for us, there is a passage in the Sagas which describes exactly where to strike the beast,” said Rip.

“Yeah, if you give the right directions,” observed Jonah.

“Post-mortems will get us nowhere,” said Rip, unwilling to get into an argument about the logistics of the fight. “Jax, we need to start with the power source.”

Jax held up a large battery pack.

“Just tell me what to connect to what,” he said, “and you should probably sit down. You’re not looking so hot.”

Rip realised that he was shaking again or perhaps still, he wasn’t sure anymore, and his stomach had returned to just being queasy. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will the nausea down. Someone brought a chair over and eased him down into it. The day was catching up with him. Being dropped through a temporal portal into the Thames did have a habit of wearing one out, he thought, as if nearly drowning was an everyday occurrence.

He opened his eyes to see Lola going through the debris on the floor and locating a blanket which she shook out. He was somewhat surprised to find Jonah was crouched down at his side.

“The kid’s right,” said Jonah. “You aren’t looking so good. What are you hiding?”

“Nothing,” said Rip, “This is just what happens when you overload a time drive and get plunged into the freezing waters of the Thames in a post-Climate Crisis London. The water of this era was polluted with all manner of horrors. Just get me back to the Waverider, Gideon will do the rest.”

Jonah frowned.

“You’d better not be lying,” said Jonah.

“I give you my word, I am not lying. I’m not feeling well, but Gideon will be able to deal with all of it,” said Rip.

Lola wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, and handed him a bowl. Rip sighed.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Now that they weren’t fighting a dragon anymore, he could hear the weather battering at the shutters of the windows and doors. This era really had been quite unpleasant at points. He’d only ever visited this period briefly before, making a couple of minor alterations to ensure that things did improve eventually.

“Right, Jax, you need to create a temporal delineation circuit. This is a smaller and less complex version of the Waverider’s temporal delineator. We can do it with any basic set of transistors and one of those ATX chips that you found. We’ll need a timing circuit and some wires to link it all together.”

Jax nodded, quickly setting out what they needed from his collection and then getting to work as Rip offered advice and instructions. They retrieved the contents of his pockets, which was useful for the multitool that he always kept on him. He really missed his coat, but it was still wet and would need some time to dry and possibly a deep clean before it could be worn again. He would just have to wait to wear it again. His boots were also soaked through and so he was stuck with the hospital issue slippers for now.

Jonah seemed to be rather interested in the slain dragon that was now lying on the hospital floor, but after kicking it a couple of times and examining it from a variety of angles, he’d found some sheets to cover the body.

“I can’t bare to look at the damn ugly thing any longer,” said Jonah, when Rip gave him an enquiring look.

DC Thornton reappeared while they were working and conferred with his partner. They seemed to decide to keep everyone out until the time travellers could resolve the issue, by the looks that he and Jax were getting, and the few words he caught. They got a bit nearer and he picked up the end of their conversation.

“The emergency band is functioning intermittently, but it’s saying that it could be another five hours before the storm blows out enough that the bridges will be passable again,” said Thornton. “We’re setting up for an overnight stay here. Do we need to barricade the doors to the reception and treatment area?”

“Given the Eloko and the dragon, I think it’s a sensible precaution,” said Lola, with an incline of her head in Rip’s direction. “Who knows what’s next?”

“With any luck, we’ll be gone before another portal opens,” said Rip, fixing two wires to a component for Jax to add to the assembly.

Doing something with his hands made him feel more useful, even if he still couldn’t manage the fine work that Jax was completing. He couldn’t stop shivering and he was wondering if it was now partly psychosomatic. Lola just gave him a rather disbelieving look, which he didn’t think he deserved given their short acquaintance.

“You’re running out of time,” said Lola.

“I am well aware, but if we don’t put this together correctly then it won’t work,” replied Rip, with an edge of annoyance to his voice. “We’re going as fast as we can with the tools and parts that we have.”

Rip leaned back in his chair. He was still feeling terrible. The nausea was building and he wondered if he might actually need to use the bowl that had been provided earlier. If he had to stop working then Jax could probably complete the Time Courier by himself. The young man had developed a good working knowledge of temporal mechanics and, since leaving the Waverider, he had apparently been studying for an Engineering degree.

Jax had impressed Rip quite early on in their acquaintance and quite frankly had continued to do so the longer he knew him. He could not have wished for a better engineer for the Waverider and he knew he’d left her in good hands with Jax. He was quite sorry to hear that the young man had left the crew after Martin’s death, although he did understand that grief often caused a re-evaluation of life and sometimes a change in direction. It took time to come to terms with loss, and to miss someone with fond remembrance rather than fierce pain and regret. Rip continued to wonder if he would ever reach that point with Miranda and Jonas.

A twinge in his stomach made him breathe in sharply.

“Bugger,” he said, because this was exactly the same as he’d felt before the second portal opened. “Jax, Jonah, we’ve run out of time.”

The pain was worsening rapidly. Jonah returned from whatever he’d been doing and peered at Rip with a mixture of concern and deep thought.

“Rip? You okay?” asked Jax, from the other side of the gurney they’d been working at.

“Not even remotely,” said Rip, as he doubled over in agony. “Make sure the Time Courier is somewhere safe.”

“Yeah, good idea,” said Jax, and moved the gurney over to the opposite side of the room.

“Keep working on it, if you can,” said Rip, managing to get the words out through bared teeth.

“Maybe we should lie you down,” suggested Jonah.

Rip just managed a nod and Jonah helped him onto the floor. Lola produced a pillow for his head. The world dissolved into a golden haze. Once again, it felt like he’d passed out, but also that no time had passed at all. He opened his eyes to a bizarre sight, which was saying something given the things he had seen today.

Jonah Hex was stood with a metal pole in his hand which may have originally held a curtain, but had been stripped of the curtain and rings. He seemed to be fencing with a collection of broken blue and white crockery in the shape of a small man, no taller than Jonah’s waist. It had a porcelain bottle in the place of a head and a collection of small saucers made up its arms and legs. It was unclear what exactly was keeping it together, but Rip was going to bet that the answer was magic and its own sense that it should exist. Lola was stood with her police baton out and occasionally took over from Jonah as the small creature bounced around on the porcelain spoons that were its feet, waving a kitchen knife.

“Hey, you’re back,” said Jax.

“Yes,” murmured Rip. “What is that?”

“I have no idea,” Jax. “But it’s really angry, and sharp.”

Jonah yelped as the fighting crockery collection got a lucky swipe with the knife and nicked Jonah’s leg.

“Why you little…! I’ve had enough of this,” said Jonah and casting aside his pole, he flung himself at the small man.

The creature shouted something and jumped out of the way, leaving Jonah to flail on the ground. Jax laughed at the scene and Rip couldn’t help but also grin at the sight of the tiny warrior facing off against the big, bad Jonah Hex. The small man shouted something else and Rip caught a few words.

“That’s Japanese,” said Rip, as Jax helped him to get up from the floor. “I think it may be a yokai.”

“Isn’t that a kids’ show?” asked Jax.

“A kids’ show? No, they’re monsters in Japanese folklore,” said Rip. “They come in all shapes and sizes, but there’s a particular type which are inanimate objects that have been neglected, tsukumogami. Whilst the process isn’t exactly clear, such objects can gain a spirit and become yokai.”

“Okay, what do we do with it?” asked Jax.

“I don’t recall any way to deal with this particular yokai. Does anyone speak any Japanese?” shouted Rip.

“I’m fighting the teapot from hell and you want to know if I speak Japanese?” replied Jonah, crossly, pushing himself to his feet and giving chase to the small monster again.

The yokai had now turned back to harassing Lola, who at least seemed to be holding her own in one on one combat with something a third her size but about ten times her ferocity. It was fast though and it kept dodging out of reach whenever she tried to hit it or grab it. Lola got a little too close and found herself pelted with razor sharp pottery shards, causing her to yelp and jerk away. Many of the small slivers found their mark in her leg, ripping through her trousers.

“Lola!” Jax shouted. He dashed over to her as she stumbled and sat down heavily on the floor.

“Damn it!” she exclaimed, examining her cut leg. There were probably twenty tiny pieces of china sticking out of her leg. “That little bastard!”

The animated porcelain man dashed between Jonah’s legs, just as he was about to hit out again.

“It’s going for the door!” shouted Rip, which Thornton had sensibly barricade from the other side.

Rip didn’t think any kind of door would hold for long against a magical creature, even a small one such as this yokai. Jonah was limping but he did his best to run at it again.

“Wait!” shouted Rip. “Have you got your hip flask on you?”

“Now isn’t the time for drinking,” shouted Jonah, crossly, but pulled up by Rip’s shout.

“No, offer it to the yokai,” said Rip. “Maybe we can…”

“Get it drunk?” asked Jax, with disbelief.

“Show that we respect it,” Rip said, settling on that. “I don’t know, make friends.”

Jonah reluctantly took out his hip flask from an inside pocket. The small porcelain monster turned around, knife held up ready to fight again. Jonah held out the flask and then put it down on the floor between them.

“That’s my best whisky,” said Jonah, indicating with a hand that the yokai should take it. “I hope you like it.”

Rip moved a little closer slowly, and cautiously sat down on the floor a couple of metres away from the yokai.

“Konnichiwa, yokai-san,” he said, hoping that the very few Japanese words he knew would be enough to at least break the ice.

Rip dipped his head respectfully. Jonah looked puzzled but also bowed his head.

“Konnichiwa,” replied the yokai with a suspicious tone.

He pointed at himself. “Rip Hunter.” And then he pointed to Jonah. “Jonah Hex.”

“Seto Taisho,” replied the small man, indicating himself.

“Arrigato Seto Taisho. I’m sorry, but “hello” and “thank you” is the entire extent of my Japanese,” said Rip, with a sigh, and indicated the flask with a hand. “Please, drink.”

Seto Taisho seemed to get the idea, as he edged closer to the flask and sniffed at it, like a cat trying to decide whether something was edible. He then picked up the flask and took a sip. He put his bottle shaped head to one side in a comical manner and nodded with approval, then took a much longer drink. He spoke a few words that sounded approving, but Rip honestly wasn’t sure.

Rip looked over at Jax again.

“Jax, I will see to DC Sekoni’s wounds. I think you should finish off the Time Courier whilst we have some relative calm,” said Rip. “Jonah, could you continue to keep an eye on our friend?”

“Yeah, I’ll ride herd on the little runt,” said Jonah, gruffly and without taking his eyes off the yokai who was currently drinking another swig from the flask.

Jax helped Lola to limp to a chair, and Rip managed to find the medical supplies he needed to remove the china shards from her leg, disinfect the cuts and bandage them. He had to use tweezers to get all the pieces out, they were as sharp as broken glass and he was careful to find them all. His hands were shaking less now, although still not quite as still as he would have liked, but he managed.

“You’ve done this before,” said Lola, as Rip applied the bandages.

“Unfortunately being a time traveller isn’t the safest of professions,” said Rip. “Knowing a bit of first aid is always useful. I expect these are painful, but the good news is that the pieces didn’t penetrate far and it’s all superficial. It should heal nicely.”

The lights flickered, still being affected by the storm outside. Lola glanced up.

“London survives this, right?” she asked.

“This?” asked Rip.

“The flooding and the storms,” said Lola.

“Yes, but don’t ask me for the details. It isn’t good to know too much about the future,” said Rip.

“Because knowing might mean we change it,” said Lola.

“Exactly,” said Rip. “Even telling you that London survives could be considered risky. I may have just stopped you from doing something to bring that into being.”

Lola frowned now.

“Will you come back and fix it if it goes wrong?” said Lola.

“Maybe,” said Rip. “Not all problems are easily fixed. Time wants to happen. And I was doing my best to leave my time travelling behind me.”

“By nearly killing yourself,” said Jax, pointing an annoyed screwdriver in Rip’s direction. “Like you could ever stop doing this.”

“I _have_ missed travelling on the Waverider,” said Rip. “Concentrate on your work, Jax.”

“Yeah, I’m nearly done. Just a couple more connections,” said Jax, as he tightened a wire around a screw and then twisted it tight. “And that’s it.”

“Good work,” said Rip. “I assume you know where we’re going?”

“Yeah, we agreed with Gideon where she’d hang out until we needed her. There aren’t many flat places to land around here,” said Jax.

Rip raised an eyebrow.

“So where did you park the Waverider?”

“Gideon said it was called Canary Wharf,” said Jax. “There were three tall buildings, one of them had a pyramid on the top. She’s parked on a flat one.”

“I’m familiar with Canary Wharf, Jax,” said Rip. “That’s quite a walk from here. Well, swim in this era.”

“She dropped us off on a roof down the street, but it wasn’t big enough or strong enough for her to park on. I brought the beacon. Gideon said there was too much electrical activity in the storm for the coms to work,” said Jax.

The beacon was a device which could be used to let Gideon know a pick-up was required or it would allow them to track down the Waverider if they needed to go to her. A button was pressed on a small box and Gideon would be alerted to go to the source of the signal, or press a different button and it would display her coordinates and direction. It was more reliable than a communicator in an area where radio signals were patchy.

Rip nodded in approval at Jax’s strategy.

“Gideon was correct. Set the coordinates,” said Rip.

“Okay,” said Jax, and fiddled with the device for a moment. “What are we going to do with the pocket monster?”

“We should probably take it with us,” said Rip. “I’m not certain that it’s actually malevolent, more just angry and confused. At least if we take it back to the Waverider we’ll be able to get Gideon to set the translators to Japanese and we can talk to it.”

“I guess it’s better than leaving it here,” said Jax.

“You’d better hurry up with whatever you’re doing over there,” said Jonah. “He’s almost finished my booze.”

The blue and white patterned yokai did seem to be engrossed in drinking from the flask, and had sat down on the floor, talking to Jonah as if the man understood him. It was definitely enjoying the alcohol.

“I’m ready when you are,” said Jax.

“I just need one thing,” said Rip, and dashed back to the cubicle he’d been put in when he was brought in.

He found what he was looking for on the ground, where it had fallen when the Eloko entered the room through the portal. The coat was still soaked through, and quite grubby, but it was intact otherwise. Rip wrapped it up in a blanket, a little sad to see the state it was in, but hopefully Gideon could clean it. He didn’t think his boots were salvageable, as much as he loved them, so he left them behind.

There was the sound of static and Lola reached into her pocket frowning as her radio came to life. She furrowed her brow and tried to make sense of the message that was shrouded in noise and barely able to be made out, especially with the wind and rain hammering the building.

“All officers! Be aware… Deep… Came out of the Deep! Liminal… Damage… All officers! Alert! Creature is large… causing huge waves… Deep!”

The message repeated again, but they couldn’t catch much more of it.

“This is DC Sekoni, I’m at St Bart’s Hospital, please repeat,” said Lola into her radio, but there was no reply. “This is DC Sekoni, please repeat!” She shook her head with defeat.

“What’s that about?” asked Jax.

“I don’t know,” said Lola. “Maybe the storm stirred something up. There are some nasty things in the Deep. We’re not far into the city here; this was the closest hospital to the Liminal District where we pulled Rip out of the water.”

Rip was tired and still feeling nauseous and achy. He did not want to get pulled into a local problem, but he also had a bad feeling that this wasn’t actually just the latest mutation from the Deep.

The hospital floor suddenly rose in an alarming manner. It had been rolling like the deck of a boat, allowing the storm waves to pass rather than overwhelm the floating structure, but this seemed to be tipping the floor. There was the sound of civilians and staff making alarmed noises elsewhere in the hospital. Everyone hung onto the nearest wall or pillar for stability. The yokai grasped the flask to itself and stabbed its knife into the floor to act as something to hang onto. It spoke rapidly in Japanese and seemed decidedly annoyed.

“That can’t be good,” said Jax.

“Lola, when you rescued me, you said that my eyes were glowing. At that point, did I become unconscious?” asked Rip.

“You said something first, called me Amaya, but yeah,” said Lola.

“There may have been another portal,” said Rip. “It probably formed under the water, so you weren’t aware of it.”

“You’re joking,” said Jax.

“I’m afraid not,” replied Rip.

“So, there’s another monster out there,” said Jonah.

“I think it’s coming this way if the waves are anything to go by,” said Lola.

“Er, it may be attracted to the energy that I’m emitting,” said Rip.

“How does that work?” asked Jax.

“Some creatures have an affinity to temporal energy, they can sense it where we can’t. My temporal energy is falling which is why the portals have appeared at longer intervals and also why it may have had trouble tracking me,” said Rip. “But all it needs is a direction and the closer it gets, the easier it will become. It’s looking for a way home, back to whichever dimension it came from.”

“And if we thought the dragon was bad, this is going to be bigger and badder,” said Lola.

The floor rose and fell again. Then there was a thud as the entire building shook.

“I think it’s here,” said Jonah.

“I think you’re right,” said Rip, watching dust fall from the ceiling.

Another, much large thud shook the floor and knocked them to the ground. It was followed by a screeching roar.

“How do we fight whatever that is?” asked Lola.

“We don’t, we lead it elsewhere,” said Rip. “Jax, we need to get back to the Waverider now.”

“Got you,” replied Jax.

“Jonah? Grab the hip flask and run through the portal as soon as it opens, hopefully Seto Taisho will follow you,” said Rip.

“Right, I guess it’s worth a try,” said Jonah, getting ready to make a run for it.

Jax made a final adjustment to the makeshift Time Courier and pressed a button. A glowing doorway opened up and through it could be seen the Waverider. Rip felt a deep sense of relief flood his body. Jonah grabbed the hip flask from the floor and ran with it through the portal. The yokai took the bait and pelted after Jonah.

“I wasn’t sure that would work,” said Rip, with pleased surprise.

The monster outside attacked once more and this time the door flew inwards and off its hinges.

“Oh crap,” said Lola, frozen to the spot with awe and fear at the sight revealed.

The monster was massive, easily as wide as the canal outside the hospital. It looked like a large, finned snake, with huge, yellow eyes with slit pupils and a gaping maw full of multiple rows of pointed teeth.

“A sea serpent…” murmured Rip.

He hadn’t been able to get a proper look at it to see any identifying features and if he was honest this was far closer than he really wanted to ever get to such an animal.

“Lola, you’re coming with us,” said Rip, grabbing the police officer’s arm, “Go! We’ll get you home again later. I promise!”

Lola’s eyes widened but she nodded. Jax, Rip and Lola headed through the door at a rapid pace, with Jax carrying the makeshift Time Courier. That was definitely something that shouldn’t be left lying around. The doorway shut behind them, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Welcome home, Captain Hunter,” said Gideon.

“It’s good to be back,” replied Rip, and made for the pilot’s chair.

“I regret to inform you that I am detecting windspeeds above the tolerance that I can maintain position on this building,” said Gideon.

“Not to worry, Gideon, we’re not staying,” said Rip.

He felt as if he was running on empty, he had a new headache building and his stomach was still upset, but he didn’t have time to deal with minor ailments. He more fell into the pilot’s chair rather than sat, but he did make it without embarrassing himself.

“Rip, I hope you don’t care about your alcohol,” said Jonah, and Rip realised that his friend and the yokai had adjourned to the parlour to start drinking the contents of his liquor cabinet.

“If it keeps our new friend happy, then I have no qualms at all about sacrificing my whisky,” replied Rip. “Jax, I need your help. Lola, I suggest you strap in. Jonah, just hang on if you can.”

Lola had been looking around at the ship with some wonder, but Jax pulled her towards one of the crew chairs and helped her lower the restraining bar. Jax took the seat beside Rip.

“What do you need?” asked Jax.

“A temporal energy signature to lure that creature away from the hospital and out to sea for starters,” said Rip, as he readied the engines and checked the Waverider’s systems.

“I’m lowering the temporal shielding to 98%,” said Jax. “I don’t want to risk losing containment on the time drive or we’ll end up with an overload again.”

“That is still inadvisable, Mr Jackson,” said Gideon. “You will have approximately ten minutes before the radiation begins to adversely affect systems and may harm the crew.”

“I know,” said Jax. “I’ll put them back to 100% as soon as we’ve dealt with the small matter of the sea serpent attacking London. How exactly are we going to tackle that?”

“I am working on it,” replied Rip, and lifted the Waverider off the roof of the building it was sat on.

It was barely a few seconds to reach the hospital and now they could see the extremely large sea serpent in all her glory.

“Tiamat!” said Rip, recognising the sea serpent with horror. “That is Tiamat.”

“Like in Dungeons and Dragons?” asked Jax. “I thought she was supposed to be a dragon with lots of heads?”

“They took the name but not the appearance,” replied Rip. “Tiamat is a sea serpent and described as having a skull and ribs on the exterior of her body. I think that bony carapace on her head and exoskeletal bones on her chest fulfil that description.”

“Does knowing her name make any difference?” asked Lola.

“Probably not,” said Rip. “But let’s get her somewhere more open so we can at least stop her from destroying London.”

Rip brought the Waverider in low over the building. Tiamat twisted her long serpentine body around and her eyes came to rest on the ship, eyeing it up as it came closer. Rip could now see that she also had a pair of horns on her head, but she seemed to have noticed them which was good for his plan. Although perhaps not so good for the people on the Waverider.

He circled back around and this time Tiamat turned to follow the ship, her sinuous scaled body scything through the stormy waters. As she turned, her tail tip hit a corner of a building and knocked masonry into the canal. She was too big for the city, and they needed to get her into deeper water with more space urgently. Her long neck stretched up and her jaws opened to take a bite at the Waverider.

“Rip!” shouted Jax.

“I see her,” said Rip, turning the ship sharply away before the jaws could close. He had to fight against the gusts of wind that were trying to blow the Waverider away as she flew. “I just need her to follow us. Gideon, did she take the bait?”

“Tiamat is behind us and seems to be in pursuit,” said Gideon.

“Good seems the wrong word,” said Lola.

“Needs must, better she comes after us than the city,” said Rip, tersely, concentrating on weaving so that the sea serpent didn’t have a chance to grab them as he led it out between the buildings of London.

“Okay, what do we do next?” asked Jax.

“We need to send her somewhere else,” said Rip, “and unfortunately I can only think of one way to do that.”

Rip angled the Waverider down towards the Thames. Rain pelted the windshield, and the waves were rising like mountains.

“Rip, the last time you took the Waverider under water, it didn’t end so well,” said Jax.

“I’m well aware of that, Mr Jackson,” said Rip, “Jonah, you might want to strap in for the next bit.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” said Jonah, as he took his seat behind Jax.

“Probably not,” said Rip, and the Waverider hit the water and disappeared into the Thames.

The ship rocked with the impact of entering the water, and the controls immediately became less responsive.

“Is this ship supposed to go underwater?” asked Lola, worriedly looking around at the creaking metal of the hull.

“It’s designed to withstand the vacuum of space, so it can take the Thames and everything it can throw at it,” said Rip, although he was fighting against a very strong current which was definitely not something he usually had to contend with.

Visibility was terrible so he was now relying on the sensors for Tiamat’s position. He turned the ship around so that he had a good run at the monster who had also dived under the water to better stalk her prey.

“Rip, why are we heading straight for the sea serpent?” asked Jax, a tremor in his voice.

“Because we need to be close for this to work,” said Rip, his concentration mainly focused on piloting the ship and what he needed to do to ensure they didn’t end up crushed. “Gideon, get ready to take us into the timestream on my mark.”

“Understood, Captain,” replied Gideon.

He watched the blip on the sensors that represented the huge serpent closing with the Waverider. He was having to fight against the turbulence of the water with every second, and sweat broke out on his skin from the effort. A few hours ago he’d been in a hospital bed and really he should still be there, but there wasn’t time for him to rest and he was the only pilot they had available.

He barely had two seconds to avoid the large head of the serpent that was suddenly visible in front of them through the grey storm water. Just as Tiamat opened her jaws to snap at the Waverider, Rip turned the ship on its side and skilfully slid down the serpent’s side. He kissed the scales of Tiamat’s hide.

“Now, Gideon!” he shouted, staying in as close a proximity as he could to the sea serpent.

One moment the ship was struggling to respond to his commands and then they were in the green corridors of the timestream, and they had dragged a sea serpent with them.

“How did you do that?” asked Jax.

“A temporal field surrounds the Waverider when we jump,” said Rip. “If something is close enough, or on the ship, then it comes with us.”

“That’s useful information,” said Jax.

“Still as crazy as ever,” bemoaned Jonah from behind them. “What’cha going to do about the angry giant snake that’s right beside us? You got it out of London, but now it’s only got us to be pissed at.”

Rip had already realised this, and was currently weaving a path around the flailing tail of the dragon.

“Jax, restore the temporal shields,” said Rip.

“Done,” said Jax, as he pressed a few buttons.

“Good, now, as soon as we are past the tail we need to tempt her with something new,” said Rip. “Gideon, where’s the nearest anomaly?”

“The Mouth of Charybdis is the closest hazard,” replied Gideon. “I don’t need to remind you why that area was placed off limits by the Time Masters.”

“You do not. Plot a course, Gideon,” said Rip, as if he hadn’t heard her warning at all.

“Didn’t the computer just tell you not to do that?” asked Jonah.

“I would strongly advise against it,” said Gideon.

“Yes, I’m aware, and I know what I’m doing. I just don’t have time to explain,” said Rip. “Gideon! Plot the course.”

“Yes, Captain,” said Gideon, with a note of crossness in her tone and the course was displayed for him to follow.

“Thank you,” said Rip. “Jax, activate the tractor beam and pull the monster’s tail. Just a short burst but we need to get it going in the right direction.”

“Really? You’re going to aggravate the thing that tried to eat us?” asked Lola, with disbelief. “But yeah, sure, why not? Why shouldn’t this day just keep getting weirder?”

“Yeah, before we drop you home I’ll tell you about the first mission I went on,” said Jax, as he programmed the tractor beam. “This is actually kind of normal for us.”

Jax activated the tractor beam and Tiamat found herself pulled back by the ship that was rapidly hurrying away from her tail. She spun around quickly and Rip hoped that he hadn’t miscalculated. He sped forwards putting on a burst of extra speed that meant Tiamat was thrown backwards again and could bring her jaws to bear. Jax disengaged the tractor beam and Tiamat surged forwards to chase the ship.

“She’s following,” said Jax.

“Good, okay, we’re going to do the same thing again, but this time we’ll keep speeding up until we’re as close as we can get to the Mouth of Charybdis,” said Rip.

Jax frowned.

“You do realise that if we slam on the breaks at that point then the momentum will just carry us forward into whatever the Mouth of Charybdis is,” said Jax.

“I know how physics works,” said Rip.

He could already see the edge of the area of the timestream that was the Mouth of Charybdis. It was a huge disruption in the passages of the corridors of time and he would never have willingly come here. It had been named for Charybdis because of its whirlpool-like structure and the way it pulled things into its centre. But whilst a whirlpool had a bottom, even if it was a deep one, this was a hole in time. No Time Captain had ever survived being sucked into it to tell the tale of what was on the other side, but most theories suggested it was another dimension. In reality no one knew.

“Jax, be ready to disengage the tractor beam on my mark,” said Rip, getting ready for a course change. “This must be done with precise timing.”

“Understood,” said Jax.

“Rip, you’re cutting it mighty fine,” said Jonah, just a little nervously.

Jonah did have a good point. They were travelling at full speed now towards something that looked like it might be the gateway to hell itself.

“I have to, or this won’t work,” said Rip.

He counted down the seconds, and then he turned hard to port, following the direction of the turn of the whirlpool of temporal disruption. He gave it half a second for Tiamat to be pulled around and then he gave Jax the signal.

“Now!”

Jax cut the tractor beam and Tiamat was carried forwards by her momentum, thrown as if flung by a catapult. The gravitational pull of the Mouth soon dragged her in, whilst Rip used the angular momentum of the whirlpool to push them out and away from danger. Jonah let out a whoop of joy and relief behind him, whilst he heard Lola gasp with surprise. Rip just breathed a sigh of relief as they completed the manoeuvre and headed back into safer areas of the timestream.

“Nicely done, Rip,” said Jonah.

“Gideon, can you take over, please,” said Rip, tiredly.

“Of course, Captain,” said Gideon, cheerfully.

His stomach was now more than just upset, it was getting painful again. His skin had begun to itch too, probably from whatever chemicals had been in the water. He really should go to the medbay and let Gideon fix him up properly. The medical facilities in the 2200s weren’t bad, but they definitely couldn’t do everything that the Waverider’s medbay could.

Rip pushed up the bar and got to his feet. He was sweating, possibly from the stress and exertion but it could also be because he wasn’t well. He wobbled a little and Jax was on his feet and grabbing him by the arm a moment later.

“Dude, you should be in the medbay,” said Jax.

“I think you may be right,” replied Rip, “and perhaps I might need a hand to get there.”

“I’ve got you,” said Jax.

There was the sound a clatter of broken cups and plates from the parlour and Seto Taisho emerged from underneath a pile of books. He didn’t look very much the worse for wear, and said something in Japanese.

“Gideon, what’s he saying?” asked Rip.

“He wants to know where the kitchen is,” said Gideon. “He is hungry.”

Lola giggled.

“I’ll take him,” said Jonah. “Do you want to come too, lady? I don’t know about you, but I could do with a drink and maybe some food too.”

“Sure, I guess I don’t have to go home right away. You can get me home, can’t you?” asked Lola.

“Yes, don’t worry, we’ll have you back at the exact moment you left,” said Rip, as Jax helped him forwards. “Jonah, don’t let the yokai eat me out of house and home.”

“Hey, it drank all my good whisky, so you owe me, and for pulling your ass out of the fire again,” said Jonah.

“I’ll find a suitable payment as soon as I’m back to normal,” said Rip.

Rip could have sworn that Jonah muttered something about Rip never being “normal” but he was too tired to argue with him and already in the corridor by the time he thought of a decent comeback.

***

Rip spent a day in the medbay as Gideon removed the remaining temporal energy from his system, bleeding it out safely through the hull of the Waverider so that no further portals opened to other realms. Gideon had him on strong painkillers and mild sedatives for most of the day, which meant that he was sleepy and warm and didn’t really notice the time passing. She also ensured that the ill effects of nearly drowning in the Thames were taken care of, including a nasty case of slight poisoning and the burgeoning skin condition he had acquired thanks to the pollutants.

By the time Gideon was done with him he was feeling much better, although a little tired, in need of his own bed, a shower, and a proper meal. He was trying to decide which of those to take care of first as he exited Medbay and nearly crashed into Jax.

“Hey, you’re looking better,” said Jax.

“Feeling it too,” replied Rip, with a dip of his head. “I was just on my way to shower and then to get some food. How are our guests doing?”

Jax gave a shrug.

“Lola’s having the time of her life. I showed her around the ship, I didn’t think it could hurt after everything she’s seen over the last couple of days. She and Jonah have been making all sorts of food with the fabricator,” said Jax. “Seto Taisho is a bit more of a handful, but he fell asleep once he’d eaten all the sushi Gideon made for him.”

“Huh,” said Rip, who hadn’t quite expected that.

“What are we going to do with him?” asked Jax. “Sara definitely won’t be pleased if we return the Waverider with an extra passenger.”

“I think we can find him somewhere suitable,” said Rip. “Do you know a man called John Constantine?”

Jax shook his head.

“I recognise the name though,” said Jax. “Sara mentioned that he’d been helping the team. He’s the one who brought her soul back.”

“Indeed he is,” said Rip. “So, I think he might have a suggestion for how we can send Seto Taisho to somewhere he will be safe, but also no longer a menace to us.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t seem that bad when he’s not trying to kill us,” said Jax.

“I assume you will want me to drop you back at Central City, where your family await?” asked Rip, half-hoping that the answer was “no thanks” but already knowing it wouldn’t be.

“Yeah, that would be great, but I need to get the Waverider back to Sara first,” said Jax. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, I doubt I’m welcome back at the Time Bureau. The Waverider is my ship, so I’m going to stay with her. Sara and I will just have to work out our differences, and she can always leave if she doesn’t like it, but I’m not going anywhere. Gideon and I are a partnership and I should never have left,” said Rip.

Jax grinned. “I wish I could stay and watch the sparks fly.”

“You know that you can, if you want,” said Rip. “We need a good engineer and there is no one better.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want my family to go through what you went through,” said Jax, but he put his head on one side, thoughtfully. “Maybe if you could persuade Sara to talk Ava into giving me a job at the Time Bureau, then I’d be there to work on the Waverider whenever she comes home.”

“That’s actually a very good compromise,” said Rip. “I definitely think it’s something we could sell the new Time Bureau Director on.”

Jax nodded.

“I don’t think Grey would have wanted me to give it all up. I know he’d been thinking about settling down, but he always told me that I had my own life,” said Jax. “And how many good timeship mechanics do you know?”

“Precious few,” said Rip. “It would be a shame to waste your talents, especially as the Time Bureau is going to have a fleet of ships shortly and they will all need to be taken care of.”

“Really?” asked Jax. “I thought they just had the one ship.”

“Ah, she’s just the prototype,” said Rip. “Wait till you see the others.”

Rip really did enjoy the look of pleased wonder on Jax’s face that followed that pronouncement.

***

They took the Waverider back to a much calmer London in 2208. She came in to land on a different roof this time. This one was a little closer to the hospital than where Jax and Jonah had parked. The sky was blue with grey clouds vanishing towards the horizon and the wind had died down to manageable levels. Gideon picked up reports of weather stations describing a storm that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“Do you think Tiamat had anything to do with that?” asked Jax.

“Possibly, she is a sea serpent and they are associated with storms. Perhaps the storm began when she arrived and finished when we took her into the timestream,” said Rip.

The three men accompanied Lola to the Waverider’s exit.

“So, time to go,” said Lola, with a slightly disappointed sigh.

“Yes, unfortunately this is your stop,” said Rip. “Thank you again for your help. I wouldn’t be here without you and we definitely wouldn’t have been able to fight those monsters without your help and that of your partner.”

“It’s my job,” said Lola. “I mean, not helping lost time travellers and fighting monsters, that would be weird, but you know, helping people and keeping them safe.”

“And you’re very good at it,” said Rip. “I think London is very safe in your hands.”

Lola smiled a little self-consciously.

“You’ve got my thanks too, lady. Someone needs to look out for this reprobate when we aren’t around to do it. I appreciate you stepping into the breech this time,” said Jonah.

“This time? Does he go missing a lot?” asked Lola.

“This is the second time,” said Jax. “It was nice meeting you, Lola. I’ll look you up if we’re ever in the area again.”

“I’ll look forward to it, just not too often, hey?” said Lola, with a laugh. “It’s possible to have too much excitement in one lifetime. Safe journey.”

Lola waved at them and walked down the ramp. She stopped at the bottom.

“Hey, if I ever need you? What should I do?” asked Lola.

“Try channel 99 on your radio,” said Rip. “I modified it a little. Also, you should find it works during storms too now.”

Lola felt in her pocket and retrieved the radio, she pulled it out and looked at it with surprise. Rip had been very careful not to change the outer appearance, so she was rightly confused about why it seemed exactly the same.

“Thanks,” she said, with a smile.

They watched her walk away to climb down from the roof, to return to her city of canals and boats and polluted depths, full of dangers and unknowns. It was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“She’ll be okay, right?” asked Jax.

Rip hesitated, but nodded. He would never recommend looking up people in Gideon’s vast databanks, but occasionally he wanted to know. He needed to know. So he had asked. Gideon had said that DC Sekoni lived a long and full life and Rip hadn’t asked for any further details.

The Waverider’s hatch closed.

“Jonah, where am I taking you back to?” asked Rip, with the beginning of a smile.

“I reckon that’s up to you and your lady friend,” said Jonah, putting his head on one side.

“Sara would be horrified to hear you call her that,” said Rip.

“I wasn’t talking about Sara,” said Jonah. “I meant your ship.”

Rip almost winced.

“That may actually be worse,” said Rip.

“On the contrary, Captain,” said Gideon. “I rather like it.”

“Of course you do,” said Rip, ruefully, with a glance upwards. “I should probably take you back to wherever Jax picked you up, but I am getting the distinct impression that you don’t feel like going home yet.”

“This is the best time I’ve had in years,” said Jonah. “And like I said, you owe me one, more than one. How about I travel with you and your crew for a while, see what the future has to offer?”

“Normally I would be completely against that, but since you have already been removed from your timeline, it’s hard to argue against it,” said Rip.

“Does that mean I don’t have much of a timeline to go back to?” asked Jonah.

“No, it means I have no idea. I’ve never looked into your life. I know about certain historical occurrences which you were a part of, that’s all,” said Rip. “The only thing I can tell you is that if you come with me, I can’t guarantee you’ll ever look at your home again in the same way.”

“It’s a bit late for that, Rip!” spat Jonah. “We fought demons and dragons a couple of days ago!”

Jax just gave the two men a wary look.

“If you two are going to start throwing punches again then I’m leaving,” said Jax.

“It’s okay, kid,” said Jonah. “Rip just wants me to know what I’m getting myself into. I just need him to understand that I do, and I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, but even I can’t tell you what the future holds for us and the dangers we may face in protecting the timeline,” said Rip. “We were lucky this time.”

“Is that what you think?” asked Jax, folding his arms across his chest. “Nah, that ain’t right. We’re not lucky, we’re good.”

Jonah smiled his lopsided smile.

“I like this kid,” said Jonah. “He knows what he’s talking about.”

Rip rolled his eyes.

“I had no idea that the two of you together would cause me this much trouble,” said Rip. “And we haven’t even picked up the rest of the crew yet.”

“I can’t wait to see Sara’s face when I tell her that Jonah was right,” said Jax, grinning.

“We should probably get it over with then,” said Rip. “Gideon, set a course. I suppose I ought to let people know that I’m not dead.”

“Yes, Captain,” said Gideon. “But perhaps I might suggest you retrieve Seto Taisho from the parlour first. I believe he has found Captain Lance’s tequila stash and your collection of 18th Century throwing knives.”

“Bloody hell,” said Rip, already imagining the worst. “This may be a long trip home.”

**Author's Note:**

> The observant will have noticed that I cheated a little with the dragons in this story as neither of them are true dragons. Fafnir is technically a wyvern (he only has two legs, whereas the heraldic definition of a dragon is that it must have four), and Tiamat is a sea serpent. You could group them all into the family of dragons, but I feel I have to point out this technicality for the pedants amongst my readers (of which I would definitely be one).
> 
> Also whilst Rip is correct that Tiamat is described as having a skull and ribs, it's actually unlikely that they mean it as a carapace, as other parts of her internal anatomy are also described. She doesn't really have any particular features that mark her out amongst sea serpents, but she is definitely described as a sea serpent and not the many headed dragon of D&D lore. I just wanted the sea serpent to be a particular sea serpent.


End file.
